James Bond: Blood & Honor
by Flamingo Chavez
Summary: A new James Bond novel, set during the second world war.


**BLOOD**** AND**** HONOR**

**Prologue**

_September 1943_

Adolph Hitler. Two words uttered that would cause violence among ordinary people. He had become a public enemy. His tyranny had become too much for the allied countries bordering Nazi-Germany. Hatred of the Jewish people had forced them into hiding. "From what?" children would ask…there was too many answers that would fill their little minds with terrible things. Although not all of Germany had become fascist, Hitler had convinced the minds of the country's youth, and had begun a special group of teenage soldiers that were devout to serving the chancellor. Resistance was little against Hitler, but there were few that were willing to sacrifice themselves to saved Europe from destruction.

The people of London walked in the streets, passing the countless newspaper reports on he continuing war many countries were fighting. It was only two years ago that the Americans had declared war on the empire of Japan; thousands of people had listened to the telecast President Roosevelt had given. December seventh was a dark day of horrible deaths, it was the very turning point that caused a nation that was in a deep depression to become one. As the man who planned the attack on Pearl Harbor said… "We have awakened a sleeping giant." Sons, fathers, and brothers filled the streets to volunteer themselves to fight in the most destructive and catastrophic event in human history.

Back in Europe, Commander James Andrew Bond was one of those citizens walking along the streets, waving a taxi. The cabbie opened the passenger door to reveal himself, a large man who wore a thin moustache on his upper lip, and a worn-out leather jacket.

"Hello, sir." The man said with an eager smile.

Bond nodded and casually climbed into the taxi, "Can you take me to Universal Exports, please?"

"Certainly, sir." He responded.

The cab arrived at Universal Exports twenty minutes later; Bond paid the driver and climbed out of the car. He waved the car away and it drove off. James reached into his jacket and pulled out his gunmetal cigarette case, he lit one. Smoke quickly filled his lungs, casing the tobacco to enter his bloodstream. As the cigarette became smaller, he became calmer and ran his hand through his dark hair to tidy it. He dropped the cigarette onto the ground and walked through the doors, passing the doorman.

"Morning, sir." The tall man said with no emotion whatsoever.

Bond nodded once and continued towards the elevator. He pressed the "floor ten" button and calmly waited as the lift took up to his destinations. He walked out and started down the large and well-lit hallway to arrive at Moneypenny's office.

Jane Moneypenny smiled and waved James to go to M's office.

The red light above the door became green and he entered the room.

"Hello, 007."

"M."

M came around the desk and sat on the front. He quickly went to the point and said, "I need you to volunteer for the airborne.

"What?"

"Our airborne. You'll meet our contact after you make the drop."

Bond looked confused, "and where exactly will I be dropping?"

"I don't know the military is being strict about need-to-know basis. They don't want any leaks. Plus, you have to get training, you will be in action though when you drop."

Bond rubbed his chin, "when do I ship out."

"Three days."

.

**Chapter One**

_RAF North Witham Base __  
__November 1943_

The thundering C-47 engines rocked the airplane as it descended from the clouds to see a military base below.

Thousands of tiny bodies flurried across the airfields, running in their PT uniforms along the streams. They were all ready for war.

James Bond took in a deep breath and had realized he forgotten his cigarettes back at his apartment, he'd been eager for one. The nicotine was had its effect on him, he began to feel beads of sweat run down the side of his forehead. The soldier next to him shook Bond's arms to get his attention.

"Nervous?"

"No."

The soldier became even more curious, "then why are you sweating?"

"I forgot my cigarettes at home."

"Oh, well they sell cigarettes down at the base."

Bond's head turned over to the man and held out his hand, "James Bond."

The soldier shook it, "Charlie Wilson."

The C-47's wheels touched down on the runway a few minutes later. All the soldiers, photographers, and writers stood up and began to exit the plane. Bond picked up his bag at the front and started towards his barracks to set his bag down and get some money.

Bond's commanding officer greeted him just before he set his things down.

"Commander James Bond reporting."

The officer was tall and gawky; he resembled Easy Company's Captain Sobel. He was in full uniformed, armed only with his colt .45. He looked down at the piece of paper in his hand that appeared to be a list, "at ease, you may come in."

Bond passed him and looked for a decent bed to sleep in, he was lucky, he appeared to be one of the first men there.

He set down his bag and reached into his thick army issued jacket, and pulled out a few five pounds and quickly left the barracks to the small store.

The ground was wet with the bad weather the base had been receiving over the last few days. His boots were created small splashes as he jogged across the airfield.

He stopped at the store and leaned down to catch his breathe, and set the money on the counter.

"Hey, haven't I seen you before?"

Bond looked up at the man. He frowned; it was the cabbie that gave him a ride a few weeks ago.

"Yeah, you drove me a while ago back in London."

The cabbie nodded, "yeah, yeah, thanks for the tip by the way."

James smiled. "Um, could I get some cigarettes?"

The cabbie reached under the counter and tossed two packs to Bond. "So…" he read Bond's uniform, "Bond…who's your C.O.?"

"Captain Whitman."

"Really? Me too."

"So what's you're name? I didn't catch it."

He smiled, "name's James Winstone."

*

After heading to the mess hall, and talking as the walked back to their barracks, Bond decided he need sleep.

He headed towards his bed to find another man's bag in his place. Bond grinded his teeth and called out the soldier's name, "Sergeant Ron Foley?"

An average sized man, who'd obviously been in the service for a few years walked forward to Bond. "Yes, sir."

"Remove your bag from my barrack, soldier."

Expecting a fight, Bond felt a surge of adrenaline flow through him.

"Yes, commander."

_What?_ Bond thought.

.

**Chapter Two**

"You're my contact?"

Winstone raised an eyebrow, "yes."

Bond shook his head in amazement. "So being a cab driver is just a cover?"

Winstone nodded and continued, "after being a double agent back in '39 for the Americans, I think I seemed ideal to M to be the contact. And yes, M wanted me to meet you before we 'officially' met here."

"What?"

"Didn't make since to me either, but he's old." Winstone laughed.

Bond smiled briefly, "true. But now that we are acquainted, what do you know about the operation?"

"Not much, all I know is that we're supposed to get PI (Parachute Infantry) training and make the jump to Italy."

Bond scratched his whiskery chin, "I see. When are we jumping?"

The man shrugged, "don't know. However, words' come down from command that meeting is going to be called very soon."

"Ah," Bond said as he lit a cigarette, filling his lungs with smoke.

_Four days later…_

The room was completely full of soldiers who'd earned their wings. The medals were polished on their collars, genuine smiles jus above, they were truly proud of their achievement.

James Bond and James Winstone sat in the third row towards the front. They could see the large map-covered tables, map-covered walls, and the new weapons they would use.

Staff Sergeant Clint Ford, who's in charge of the armory, stepped up to speak.

He held up a new rifle, "the M1 Garand. An semi-automatic rifle, it contains a clip so you don't have to cock the weapon every time you fire." He reached into his jacket and pulled out a bayonet. "A bayonet can be attached, but I warn you, it becomes less accurate."

He set the rifle down and began to explain the maps, the drop zones, and the equipment they would be carrying.

This was it. Most of the men had never been in combat before; only few had served during the First World War. Some men were thrilled to be making the jump. Others weren't. Some were terrified of the thought they could die even before they land, and after. Bond was neither thrilled nor scared; he felt nothing, nothing at all.

_Above Italy_

_1:08 AM_

The familiar ear aching turbine engines hadn't bothered Bond so much the second time. He glanced at his wristwatch, one oh eight in the morning. The airsickness pills he'd received didn't make much of a difference in the long run. His left hand reached to take the cigarette pack from his helmet scrap when Winstone produced a cigar into Bond's hand.

Bond smiled and said, "thanks." He nodded and lit it.

He sucked in the delicious cigar smoke deep into his dark lungs and patted Winstone on the back.

Winstone put a big grin on his hair-covered face, "your very welcome, mate!"

"BOND!" Captain Whitman yelled.


End file.
